Friday, June 22, 2012
Today was my last Bingo session before our annual summer trip to Michigan. I already had called the Recreation staff to make sure there’d be backup while I’m gone, so today I just wanted to connect with as many residents as I could. Today, my goal was to smile at every single Bingo player so every single Bingo player would know I care, even if I’m not there.
First stop: Ray McDade. He makes smiling easy. I walked up from behind and put my hand on his shoulder. He grabbed it and kissed it, and I reminded him I’d be gone for a while.
“You enjoy that time with your family,” he told me. “And you tell Carson to make sure he enjoys that time. Treasure it.”
I promised we would.
Billy was sitting in an unusual spot, in an even more unusual get-up. He had on a massive black wig and tinted glasses. “Hello, Elvis,” I said. I thought I was kidding, but later he asked me to bring him a cassette left up by the Bingo microphone. It was Elvis. Billy must have been singing karaoke, and he must have put a lot into it.
Dorothy, Harriet and Doris were sitting in the back of the room, and I noticed we all were wearing pink. Dorothy said she’d just seen another woman in pink and, lo and behold, in waltzed Faith. In pink. I like a little femininity in the Bingo room.
Leo Martell wasn’t winning much, but when he did, I patted him on the shoulder. He patted my hand back. “Thank you, darling,” he cooed.
Gary C. also was sitting in an unusual spot—kind of off to one side and right next to Lloyd. Twice Gary yelled Bingo, and twice he didn’t have one—but Lloyd did. “I was just watching his card," he laughed.
It was a smiley kind of day, even without my own personal effort, and I’m pretty sure I talked to everyone at some point.
I walked back toward Ray, and he grabbed my hand again. And just held it. “I am a firm believer in the power of touch,” he said.
“I am right there with you,” I said, and I let my hand linger in his.
Doris was taking attendance and called me over after one man came in late. She said she was blanking on his name, and I was, too. I knew I knew him, but suddenly all I could think of was that he reminded me of Mike. “It’s not Mike, is it?” I asked Doris.
It wasn’t. But the right answer had come to her: John. Of course it wasn’t Mike.
After Bingo, Ray zipped over and held out his arms.
“I need a hug to last me a few weeks,” I told him.
Touch is a powerful thing. I got it.
Today was my last Bingo session before our annual summer trip to Michigan. I already had called the Recreation staff to make sure there’d be backup while I’m gone, so today I just wanted to connect with as many residents as I could. Today, my goal was to smile at every single Bingo player so every single Bingo player would know I care, even if I’m not there.
First stop: Ray McDade. He makes smiling easy. I walked up from behind and put my hand on his shoulder. He grabbed it and kissed it, and I reminded him I’d be gone for a while.
“You enjoy that time with your family,” he told me. “And you tell Carson to make sure he enjoys that time. Treasure it.”
I promised we would.
Billy was sitting in an unusual spot, in an even more unusual get-up. He had on a massive black wig and tinted glasses. “Hello, Elvis,” I said. I thought I was kidding, but later he asked me to bring him a cassette left up by the Bingo microphone. It was Elvis. Billy must have been singing karaoke, and he must have put a lot into it.
Dorothy, Harriet and Doris were sitting in the back of the room, and I noticed we all were wearing pink. Dorothy said she’d just seen another woman in pink and, lo and behold, in waltzed Faith. In pink. I like a little femininity in the Bingo room.
Leo Martell wasn’t winning much, but when he did, I patted him on the shoulder. He patted my hand back. “Thank you, darling,” he cooed.
Gary C. also was sitting in an unusual spot—kind of off to one side and right next to Lloyd. Twice Gary yelled Bingo, and twice he didn’t have one—but Lloyd did. “I was just watching his card," he laughed.
It was a smiley kind of day, even without my own personal effort, and I’m pretty sure I talked to everyone at some point.
I walked back toward Ray, and he grabbed my hand again. And just held it. “I am a firm believer in the power of touch,” he said.
“I am right there with you,” I said, and I let my hand linger in his.
Doris was taking attendance and called me over after one man came in late. She said she was blanking on his name, and I was, too. I knew I knew him, but suddenly all I could think of was that he reminded me of Mike. “It’s not Mike, is it?” I asked Doris.
It wasn’t. But the right answer had come to her: John. Of course it wasn’t Mike.
After Bingo, Ray zipped over and held out his arms.
“I need a hug to last me a few weeks,” I told him.
Touch is a powerful thing. I got it.